“Ride. Watch. Listen. Maybe somewhere out there I’ll find somethin’ or hear somethin’. I don’t know what, and I won’t know ‘til it happens.”

She pressed his hand against her lips. “When the job is done, you know where I’ll be.”

Burmeister had set up his base camp several miles from the Monahan place. On the way there Rusty was aware that Burmeister watched him with a critical eye. When they reached the camp, the captain asked him, “You are tired?”

Rusty was, but he chose not to acknowledge it. “I’m doin’ better than I thought I might.”

“We will not push you too hard, not at first.”

“I’ll tote my share of the load.”

“You always did. Always you were a good man on patrol. There was not much you did not see.”

“You’re wantin’ me to go on scout?”

“Tomorrow, and only as far as you feel strong. Take Private Tanner with you. Look for sign of Indians. But do not engage. Come back and report.”

“Yes sir.” It would feel good to be doing something useful again and not be considered an invalid. “There’s nobody I’d rather have with me than Tanner. Even if he does sometimes talk ‘til my ears hurt.”

The camp reminded him of earlier times, before and during the war when he had served with the rangers in the Fort Belknap country. Burmeister maintained a loose form of military discipline and routine that lent at least some structure to each day. Rusty studied the men, quietly trying to assess their potential. He found that most had escaped Confederate service, a couple of them by going to Mexico, a couple more by serving in the Union Army. One or two he suspected of having been brush men, hiding out from conscription officers. That did not necessarily brand them in his view. James Monahan had done it. On the other hand, so had the Oldham brothers.

Rusty guessed that his first day’s ride with Tanner covered about twenty miles, about as much as he could expect while watching the ground for tracks. The last few miles set his shoulder to throbbing and aggravated an old leg pain from his long-ago arrow wound.

Tanner commented, “You’re lookin’ a little peaked.”

“It’s your eyes. I’m doin’ just fine.”

“Well, I’m tired if you’re not. I say it’s time to make camp. Got to think of the horses.”

The ride had not been long enough to tax the horses unduly. Rusty appreciated that Tanner was watching out for his welfare without making an issue of it.